


Smoke-Filled Rooms

by Lacey_Darling



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: A Lemon or Two, Actual plot, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But Romance with Plot, Eventual Smut, F/M, Foreplay, I'm Mostly Here for Romance, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Stop reading the tags and read the story, There Is Plenty of Violence but I Probably Won't Get Super Gorey, There's Definitely Some Sap, and fluff, dammit, listen, lots of feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:01:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29385264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacey_Darling/pseuds/Lacey_Darling
Summary: The empire Wilson Fisk dedicated his life to build is on the brink of crashing down around them. Wesley will do whatever it takes to prevent that from happening - even if it means asking for a favor he won't soon be able to repay from a woman who won't soon be able to forgive him. Their past swirls around them like smoke trapped in a locked room. Wesley only hopes her ire won't be the last gust of wind that decimates the future that Fisk envisions.
Relationships: James Wesley/Original Female Character(s), Vanessa Marianna Fisk/Wilson Fisk
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Henlo, ‘tis me, a stranger. I’ve had this story in my mind since the first season finished and I’ve finally decided to start writing it. The first chapter is a bit of a recap of season 1 episode 11 but there are some important changes (like Wesley not dying). The good/new stuff really takes off in chapter 2.
> 
> Why am I writing this fic? Well… an itemized list…  
> 1) Fuck Karen.  
> 2) Wesley was too smart to die like he did and this is the rock I choose to die on.  
> 3) Fuck Karen.  
> 4) I mean come on; Wesley deserved better. So I’m giving him better.  
> 5) Did I mention I don’t like Karen? Well damn, my bad. Fuck Karen.  
> 6) Slow burn romance leading to some smut? Ye, that’s right.  
> 7) …………..Fuck Karen.  
> 8) Also Wesley’s hot. I said it. Now you know what you’re in for.

The coffee was cold. Like the tacky blue and gray walls filled with lifeless pictures and the polished, linoleum floor stained with years of use; cold. Wesley tried not to let the same feeling grow in his gut. Wilson was so close to falling over an edge he couldn’t back from; he needed Wesley to be both the voice of reason and hope. Perhaps that was why he put the coffee in the microwave. On any other day he’d have thrown it out, there were few things worse than stale, reheated coffee, but now…

Wesley opened the microwave before the shrill beeping could make his headache worse, and then he turned back toward the hallway where Wilson waited quietly and fearfully. Once he opened the wooden double doors that led into the hall, he pressed down the perforations of the cheap lid to open it. Fisk sat in one of the chairs pushed against the side of the hall. Silently, Wesley sat down at his side and offered him the drink, but Wilson turned it down. Unoffended, Wesley simply took a sip and then placed it on a table next to him. He remained silent until Wilson spoke.

“There was a time when I… I believed that I was complete. That I needed no one to truly understand who I am…”

Wilson paused, and Wesley waited patiently for him to continue. He knew how hard this was for him, and he knew that he had to let him speak his mind or it would eat away at him. Wilson looked up at Wesley, down, and then up again, trying to find the words to put to his thoughts. What he said next was what Wesley expected.

“If she dies-”

“Rosenberg’s in from Hartford,” Wesley said, “and she’s strong. We’ve all seen that.”

“Yes,” was the short reply. There was another pause, this time one that Wesley was fine to break.

“Leland thinks it was Nobu’s men,” he informed.

“Fate,” Wilson said. Wesley looked at his friend with a confused frown.

“Sir?”

“It was something Gao said to me. I had to choose a path, or Fate would choose for me.”

Wesley furrowed his brow and took a breath in before he said, “I sent Leland to speak with her.”

“You suspect her hand in, uh…?”

“Until we know for certain I suspect everyone.”

There was another pause, thick with tension and anger and helplessness. Fisk didn’t need to say what was on his mind, Wesley could feel it, but he let him finish.

“You need to find who did this. You need to-” Fisk stopped to breathe, “I want to look in their eyes when I salt the earth with their blood.”

Wesley looked down and away from his friend’s face. His answer to almost everything was blood and violence. While Wesley made no judgements, he preferred a cleaner method of handling inconveniences. That was why he couldn’t be the one to change this city; why he could only support Wilson. The passion Wilson had was something he admired. Something he’d rarely felt himself, if ever.

He swallowed before he answered simply, “Understood.”

“I told her the safest place she could be was by my side.”

“This wasn’t your fault - ”

“Well, she is lying in there because she was by my side,” Wilson continued over Wesley’s protest.

Wesley opened his mouth to say something but found he didn’t have the words. So he folded his hands in his lap and turned to look at the wall across from him.

“You’ll make the arrangements,” Wilson said, his voice back down to a near-whisper. “If she recovers, I want her sent away. Somewhere far from me and this city.”

Wesley frowned. “I doubt she would want that.”

“Well, we seldom get everything we want. Not in this world.”

Wesley couldn’t stand to see his friend so broken; so lost. He looked at Wilson and found he’d never been more sincere than when he said, “But some of us deserve to.”

Fisk pondered Wesley’s words. Wesley hoped that he’d change his mind, but in the end his fear prevailed.  
“Move the appropriate funds into place,” he said.

“I’ll have Leland attend to it.”

“No, no. I want it done quietly. Handle it yourself.”

Wesley was a little surprised by this but wasn’t in a place to argue. He would happily do it himself. “I’ll have the papers messengered to your penthouse.”

“Thank you, Wesley,” Fisk said softly. He paused and then looked over to his assistant. “I…” Another pause.  
Wesley looked at him and waited for him to form his words. He wasn’t able to.

“Thank you,” he settled with eventually. Wesley let the corners of his mouth twitch up in a gentle smile, and he nodded. Truly, no thanks was needed. He would do everything in his power to ensure Vanessa’s safety and Fisk’s happiness.

The two at last fell into a silence that didn’t seem tainted by unstated words. The only thing that broke it was the beeping of monitors and the stirring of the men that were standing guard.

Wesley looked forward again as he wrapped his mind around a thought that had been bothering him for a few days now. There was no definite guarantee that the man in black was dead, though he seemed on the brink of never returning the night he had fought with Nobu. On top of that, their list of allies had steadily decreased to almost nothing. The Russians were all dead, and now the Japanese were virtually leaderless. They still had Leland, but he was a suspicious old croon, and probably wouldn’t last under too much pressure. Gao also seemed to be on the fence with her thoughts on Fisk. Wesley got the distinct feeling that neither she nor Leland would be around for very much longer. That meant that they would need someone on their side or risk being overrun by more powerful, or at the very least more numerous sources. There were too many variables to try and do this alone.

“Sir, if I may,” Wesley began. Fisk looked up and nodded for him to continue. “We’ve lost many close contacts as of late. While I don’t think it’s a problem now, the more known you become, the more enemies you’ll make. Especially if the Man in Black shows up again, I think it would be safe to have another ally on your side; one that won’t be prone to make so many… irrational decisions.”

Wilson paused before he said, “What do you propose?”

“I know a woman,” he said, “Who is very… resourceful. She’s had a hand in numerous events that I’m sure you know. Johnson County being one of them.”

Wilson frowned. “Do I know this woman?”

Wesley tilted his head slightly. “I doubt it, Sir, she… she’s worked hard to remain a shadow, like you did. A hidden entity who can’t be found until you aren’t looking for her. I myself met her only by chance.”

Fisk straightened, his confused frown still in place. “How, then, are we supposed to find her?”

Wesley smiled briefly. “I have a few ideas.”

Before he could get to them, however, Wilson looked past him and an expression of both hope and fear lit upon his face. He stood and Wesley followed him with his gaze as he moved to greet the doctor. Wesley stood as well and buttoned his jacket, as was his habit. He smiled momentarily as the doctor informed Wilson that Vanessa would survive, then pulled his phone out of his jacket to make the arrangements for her flight. At the very least, Vanessa’s death wouldn’t be a problem Fisk would have to face as of yet.

* * *

“Custom Comfort, this is Jennifer Wesley, how may I help you?”

Wesley smiled as he heard his sister’s voice for the first time in weeks. “Hello, Jenn.”

“James?” she gasped. She was silent for a moment, probably checking to make sure no one was close enough to hear her. When she next spoke it was in a whisper. “Do you know how much trouble I could get into if my boss finds out I’m using this line for a personal call? How on earth did you get through to me, anyway?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” he responded casually. By then, Jennifer was used to that sort of response, so it didn’t faze her.

“Alright, Mr. Cryptic, what is it that you want?”

Wesley smirked at her playful anger but had no time to take the bait. “I was actually wondering if you’ve spoken to our good friend recently.”

There was a pause. “Which good friend?”

“The only one you know.”

It took only a moment for Jenn to realize he wasn’t talking about “his employer”, the only name she knew Fisk by.

“Oh, you mean her… Nope, I haven’t heard from her in weeks. Maybe longer. I think she’s out of the country or something, her phone doesn’t let any calls go through.”

It was probably more than just that, Wesley mused. She probably got a new number again. That meant that he couldn’t call her and he also probably wouldn’t be able to find her through any sort of trail. He would have to think of some other way of getting her attention.

“What about her email?” he asked.

There was a long pause on the other line and Wesley raised an eyebrow.

“You aren’t supposed to know about that.”

“Of course I’m not, she made it quite clear on several occasions that she doesn’t particularly enjoy the fact that you and I are related. But I have my own business to upkeep, Jenn. She’s much too volatile to go unchecked.”

“In other words: you hacked into my email account and found out for yourself that I’ve been keeping contact with her. Do you even know what the word privacy means?”

“I think I’ve seen it a few times in some important documents,” Wesley quipped, hoping his sense of humor would subdue some of his sister’s irritation. He could imagine her rolling her eyes.

“You’re hilarious. Why do you need to know if I’ve talked to her?”

Wesley paused as he scanned the nearly empty hallway in front of him. The hospital remained mostly quiet so late into the night but there was always the chance that a pair of curious ears would hear a little too much. He glanced back at the door Vanessa and Wilson were currently behind.

“My other friend would like to get into contact with her,” he said finally.

“Hell no. If I try to get her to talk to anyone, she’s going to delete her email and probably try to change her ethnicity and join the Japanese mob. You know I can’t do that.”

“I know,” Wesley soothed. “I’m not asking you to do that.”

“Then what are you asking?”

Wesley opened his mouth, but for a few moments didn’t say anything. He breathed in eventually and said, “Perhaps ask for her aid. She may not come right away, but she does care for you. And she trusts you.”

There was a scoff on the other line. “Yeah, and I’m not going to be the one to break that trust. If I ask for her help and then inform her that it’s not really me, or even anyone that I know who needs it, what do you think she’ll do?”

Wesley tilted his head and grimaced with the answer he knew was correct. “She’d probably never speak to you again.”

“Exactly, and I’m the only friend she thinks she’s got. I’m not at liberty to let that change.”

“Of course not, I don’t expect you to betray her trust. I don’t want you to.”

“Then what was your purpose in this conversation, James?”

“I… Maybe you could drop hints that you think I’m in trouble. She might not like me, but she’ll do more for you than anyone else. If she thinks you’re worried about me, she’ll at least check to make sure I’m not lying dead in a ditch somewhere, right?”

Jenn was silent on the other side of the phone. Wesley waited patiently for his sister to consider his request. He wasn’t one to question someone’s loyalty for a friend… But he had to admit it made it difficult to get anything done sometimes.

“Fine,” Jenn sighed finally. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Wesley relaxed a little, and he smiled briefly. “Thank you, Jenn; it means a lot.”

“Of course it does, and I expect payment for my troubles, too.”

“Dinner, I assume?”

“And a damn good one at that. But James, you know that I can’t promise anything.”

“Yes, I-”

“And I can’t do this quickly, it’s going to take a while.”

“Yeah, no, we’re on the same page. I-” Wesley stopped to look back as he heard Wilson exit Vanessa’s room. “Look, let me call you- I’ll call you back.”

“Wait, James-”

Wesley took the phone away from his ear and ended the call. He met Fisk and rested a hand briefly on his shoulder.

“How is she?” he asked.

“She hasn’t woken up, but…” he trailed off, his eyes downcast in worry. “Rosenberg said there may be… complications.”

“If that happens, we’ll deal with it.”

Wilson showed neither relief nor dismay at Wesley’s statement. Instead, he changed subjects. “My mother called. Can you return – see what she needs?”

Wesley nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”

Before Wilson could respond, another, older voice unceremoniously interrupted.

“Get out of my way.”

Both Wesley and Fisk looked up as Leland pushed his way past the guards that had been blocking the hallway from passage. When Leland saw Fisk and Wesley, his irritation turned into what seemed close to concern. He clasped his hands together as he spoke.

“Um, how is she? She uh, still with us?”

Wesley could tell his friend didn’t want to answer that, so he nodded. “Yes.”

“Ah,” Leland tilted his head back with relief, or at least what was supposed to be relief. “Well… that’s something.”

Fisk, who had been looking absently at the floor, said quietly, “I don’t want to be disturbed.” He backed up towards Vanessa’s door.

“Understood,” Wesley said, staying close to him. Leland looked up and held up a finger to try and get Fisk’s attention.

“I could use a minute before you…” Wilson was already inside the room.

Wesley turned to face Leland, unaffected by the man’s plea. Leland’s hand dropped slowly as he looked between Wesley and the door.

“What am I: invisible?”

Wesley stepped forward, eyebrows raised in question. “Did you speak with Gao?”

He put a hand on Leland’s shoulder to turn him around. The man kept his eyes on the door a moment longer before following Wesley.

“We had a chat, yeah.”

“And?”

Leland gave him a condescending expression. “And what? She said she was deeply saddened and,” he shrugged, “quoted a fortune cookie or some mystical shit.”

Wesley sighed. He was not really in the mood for Leland’s attitude.

“Did she sound sincere?” he asked instead, hoping for a more direct answer.

“The hell do I know? She was speaking in Chinese… I don’t think the guy translating for her liked me very much, he kept staring at me funny.”

This actually caught Wesley’s attention. “Funny how?” Better question: was it that the translator knew Gao was planning something but was too amateur to hide it?

Leland, however, didn’t appear to share the same interest in it. He shook his head and shrugged as he snapped, “Funny.”

Wesley’s gaze sharpened again into irritation, but before he could say anything Leland continued.

“Ah, who the hell cares? She said she’d stand with us if it comes to that.”

“You believe her?”

Leland sighed and looked up to the roof, obviously without a clue. “I don’t know, maybe.”

Wesley took in a breath and folded his arms over his chest. “We need to be sure.”

“The only thing I know for sure,” Leland leaned closer and pointed to where Wilson was, “is that he needs to get back to business while there’s still business to get back to.”

Wesley nodded. “He will.”

“When?”

“When he deems it appropriate.”

Leland leaned back and again looked up to the ceiling with exasperation. He lifted his hand in a gesture of irritation.

“Well doesn’t that just fill me with confidence?” He dropped his hand to his side.

Wesley opened his mouth to speak, but simply sighed and looked down at the floor. Leland wasn’t finished.

“Do you think whoever did this will just roll up the sidewalk and move on? If they came after him once they’ll come after him again, sooner or later.”

Wesley looked up and past Leland. He was going to say one thing but decided against it and shook his head. “Go home. Get some rest. We’ll call you if you’re needed.”

“…Sure. I’ll wait by the phone. It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

He turned and walked away. Wesley sighed and watched him for a moment, then pulled out his phone and dialed Wilson’s mother. He leaned against a nearby wall as the phone rang.

“Hello?” a frail, feminine voice asked after the second ring.

“Hello, Marlene?” Wesley asked.

“Yes, speaking."

“It’s Wesley,” he smiled.

“Wesley… are you the young man who came to fix the television?”

“No, I work with your son. We’ve met before.”

“Wesley… Oh, Wesley! That’s… James, correct?”

Wesley nodded and his smile returned easily. “James Wesley, that’s right.”

“Is my son there?”

Wesley glanced at the door as he responded, “Ah, no, he’s indisposed at the moment, I’m sorry. Was there something I could help you with?”

“Oh, it isn’t much, I don’t think. The kind young woman was beautiful, with blond hair... But Wilson wanted me to call if anyone I didn’t know came to see me.”

As he listened Wesley’s smile soon faded into a concerned frown. “Wait, I’m sorry… Who came to visit you?”

“A beautiful young lady with blond hair and big, blue eyes. She was very kind to me and seemed strangely curious about Wilson. She was with another man, older than her… I don’t remember his name.”

This news was not what he expected. Not even close. When he didn’t make a response, Marlene asked with concern, “Is something wrong, dear boy?”

“No, no,” he said quickly. “It’s nothing. I’ll see to it, Marlene.”

“And Wilson?”

“Yes, I’ll have him call you as soon as he’s free.”

“Oh thank you, James, do take care of yourself.”

He gave a small chuckle at her concern. “You, too. Goodnight.”

His smile vanished. He hung up the phone, the gears in his head turning rapidly. As he tucked his phone back into his pocket, he turned to the bodyguard closest to him: Francis.

“I need your piece,” he said. Francis turned and practically started waving it around in front of him for all to see. “Discretely, please,” Wesley snapped.

The bodyguard stopped and pulled his jacket over the gun to hide it. He took it out of the holster and handed it to Wesley, who then stashed it in the waist of his pants. Wesley looked up to make sure no one had seen that, and thankfully no one did. He looked at Francis again.

“Keys,” he ordered. At first, he didn’t look like he wanted to listen. Wesley looked up and tilted his head to the side, about to say something that probably wasn’t going to be very nice. But Francis gave in and held out his keys.

“You want us to drive you?” he questioned. Wesley pointed the keys toward him and punctuated his sentence with a few jabs to make sure he understood his next orders.

“No, I want as many men on him as possible at all times. No one goes in or out of that room without you checking in first. Clear?”

The guard nodded. “Yeah, what if he asks for you?”

“Tell him I won’t be long.”

He turned and walked toward the exit of the hospital, his eyes darkening with what he knew he had to do. Generally, he didn’t like to trouble himself with something as… primitive as this, but that woman had gone unchecked for long enough.

Wesley went straight to the black SUV’s parked in front of the hospital and pushed the unlock button on the remote. The car the keys belonged to lit up from the inside and the doors clicked open. He swiftly opened the back seat to grab the trench coat he had left there and slipped it over his suit. When he was covered, he got into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

He wasn’t sure where Karen Page would be at this hour, but he hoped she hadn’t gone home yet. He wasn’t in the mood to try and break into her apartment; it would be easier to grab her if she were outside. He took out his phone and opened up her address in his maps app, just to be certain he knew where he was going. He did. So he locked his phone and stepped on the gas.

He drove as recklessly as he could without catching a any passing cop’s attention and arrived outside her apartment within a few short minutes. He didn’t see any lights on, hopefully because she wasn’t home. On that assumption, he parked the SUV out of sight and searched through the glove compartment for two things: a pair of gloves and an unmarked plastic bottle. Both he found easily and kept them out within close grabbing range. He then waited, watching the sidewalks for her appearance. He knew she’d be walking, and most likely alone. She didn’t have anyone to take her home.

As he waited, his mind kept flying back to the conversation he had with his sister. This problem would be the kind of thing their friend would have dealt with earlier. There would have been no mistakes, or at least she would have fixed them sooner, and he wouldn’t have to be the one doing this right now. Perhaps Karen would already be dead, or at least subdued. Unfortunately, he knew he couldn’t contact their friend. Not without good reason and not unless he wasn’t really meaning to. She was impossible to get a hold of when he most needed her; that had never changed.

A sudden thought came to him as he sat there and he pulled out the gun Francis had given him. He took out the cartridge and checked it; completely full. He placed the cartridge in the inside pocket of his jacket. Then he got out of the car and went around to the trunk where they stashed most of the ammunition below the floor. He opened the compartment and easily picked out what he was looking for. He grabbed this cartridge, also full, and loaded it into the gun. Then he closed the trunk and tucked the gun back where it was before. He sat back in the front seat, thankful that no one was out at that hour.

Wesley waited for half an hour before he finally saw her. Karen strode toward her home, talking on her phone. Quietly, Wesley cracked open his door. Before he stepped onto the street, he grabbed an extra handkerchief and the bottle. He poured a small amount of the liquid onto the handkerchief, then sealed up the bottle and stashed it back in the glove compartment. He pulled the gloves on and watched her for just a moment, then carefully opened the car door the rest of the way.

He crossed the street and hid behind the corner of Karen’s apartment building. He waited.

He waited until she had reached the door and started trying to get her keys in the lock. Then, he came up behind her and pushed the handkerchief against her nose. She made a surprised squeal, but it was muffled. The chloroform took effect quickly, and she was soon unconscious. Though she was dead weight, she was still fairly light. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to the SUV: no one saw anything. He placed her ungracefully in the trunk and then once again took the driver’s seat. The safest place he knew, where there would be no officers to interrupt the conversation he wanted to have with her, was the docks. That was where he headed.

* * *

Karen Page stared at Wesley over the gun she'd taken from him, her eyes wide in horror as the reality of the situation set in upon her. She'd pulled the trigger, not once, but three times. When Wesley didn't cry out, fall back, or start bleeding, she realized her mistake. No, Wesley _wasn't_ stupid enough to put a loaded gun on the table in front of her.

“Are you finished?” he asked.

Karen said nothing but didn’t bother to pull the trigger again. Wesley smirked and walked forward to take the gun. Karen at first resisted, trying to pull away so that he couldn’t take it, but he didn’t let go. She looked up at him, her lips pursed in determination, but she gradually loosened her hold on the gun.

“Think about my offer Miss Page,” Wesley said quietly. “It won’t be made again, and frankly you’re lucky that you aren’t dead already. Just remember what I said: when you have no more tears left to shed, _then_ …”

He watched Karen’s face melt into dismay, and then he gave her a brief smile before he turned, grabbed his trench coat, and walked back to the SUV. On the way his phone rang again. He fished it out of his jacket. It was Fisk.

“Sorry about that, Sir,” Wesley said, “I had trouble getting away from my current undertaking. What do you need?”

He stepped into the SUV as Wilson responded.

“I was merely wondering where you were… and if you have seen to the papers.”

Wesley tossed his coat and the gun onto the passenger seat and started the car.

“Unfortunately, I’ve not yet had time to see to it, but I was just about to do so.”

Wilson paused on the other line before he said, “Very well. I suppose you’ll return after you are finished.”

“Of course.” Wesley put the car in reverse and pulled out of the warehouse.

“I’ll see you then.”

Wesley nodded, though Fisk couldn’t see it, and ended the call. He pulled the SUV into the street before he dialed his sister on her personal phone. She shouldn’t be working anymore, but he wasn’t sure if she was awake. The phone rang several times before it cut off to voicemail. Wesley sighed, but knew he couldn’t expect his sister to keep the same hours he did.

“Hey Jenn, it’s me… Just call me back when you can.”

He hung up and tucked the phone back into his pocket.

The conversation with Karen had gone much the way he expected it to, although he was a little surprised she actually found the nerve to pull the trigger. He had made sure the bullets were all blanks, of course. Now that he was thinking about it, he took out the gun at a stop light and switched the rest of the blanks out with the real bullets that had been occupying it before.

When he made it back to the hospital, he found that Wilson was waiting outside of Vanessa’s room for him.

As Wesley stopped in front of him, Fisk said, “She’s not yet awake.”

“Give her time,” Wesley caught Fisk’s eye. “She’ll be fine.”

Wilson nodded. He was silent a long while before he spoke again.

“Is everything alright?” he questioned.

Wesley paused. He knew if he told Fisk of what he found out then both Karen and Urich would be dead in no time at all. They could still be of use… Or at least, Karen could. Urich was more of a pest than she was; people trusted him. If he wrote an article that talked about Fisk negatively, even if the majority of people didn’t believe it, there would be some who would look into it. That, Wesley wouldn’t risk. However, he would have to handle the matter with care.

“To be honest,” Wesley said, “No. I have some less than welcome news. About your mother.”

Wilson looked up, alarmed.

“What is it?”

“Apparently, someone went to visit her recently.”

Wilson’s concern began to turn into rage. “Who?” he demanded.

Wesley shook his head. “I’m not sure yet. She couldn’t remember who it was; I’m making arrangements to question the staff but I doubt they will know who went to see her. It sounded to me like there wasn’t anyone else in the room.”

Wilson turned away for a brief moment, his breath coming out ragged as he struggled to contain his anger. How could someone find out about his mother? How could he let her come so close to harm?

“I want you to find them,” he growled.

“I will,” Wesley assured. “In the meantime, do you want her moved?”

“Yes,” Wilson said, turning sharply back around to look at Wesley. “But I will do that myself. Tomorrow.”

Wesley nodded respectfully, and this time after a brief silence, Wilson walked back toward Vanessa’s room. He stopped before he opened the door and gave Wesley what could be called a smile, for him at least. Wesley returned it and then Wilson disappeared into the room.

Wesley watched the door for a moment before he turned to Francis and returned his gun and keys. The two shared a nod and then Wesley moved to sit in one of the waiting chairs.

This had to be one of the longest nights he’d ever experienced. His mind wandered through the events and he glanced at his watch, noting that it was three o’clock. His sister would be awake again by six or seven; until then all he had to do was wait. Wait for Leland to figure out things on his end, wait for Karen’s decision on the matter he presented to her, wait for his sister, and eventually wait for their friend.

He wondered if it was too late to bring her into the equation. She was a loose string, after all. Only after the money most of the time.

However, in this he was confident she would take an interest. Whatever outcome this war would bring would affect her operations in Hell’s Kitchen. It would affect virtually everyone’s operations in Hell’s Kitchen if it hadn’t already with Nobu’s death and the decimation of the Russians. He only hoped that she would see Fisk as an asset, not a threat. She was not an enemy he would like to make.

Wesley sighed and leaned back in the chair. He wouldn’t be able to change anything by thinking about it. He would just have to be patient; morning was not far away. With the morning would come answers… and also probably more questions, but at least it would be new things that he had to ponder. New and probably very tiring things. Wesley stood to grab himself another cup of cold, burnt coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, if you've made it this far, you're my official friend. It's too late for you to back out.
> 
> In chapter two we're introduced to the love interest, whoopee. I can't wait. Listen; I'm actually excited. I'm just forever sleep deprived.
> 
> Oh yeah, this is where I beg for hearts or comments or whatever. Yeet.


	2. Chapter 2

Wesley didn’t realize he’d started to doze off until the heavy click of an opening door roused him. He looked up to see Fisk leaving Vanessa’s room – tired but not broken. A spark of hope flared in Wesley’s chest. He stood and Fisk breathed a sigh of relief as he walked up to him.

“She is awake,” he said.

“And how is she?”

“She’s… shaken. But improving. Rosenburg thinks she… will make a full recovery.”

“Good,” Wesley breathed out. “Good.”

“I am going to my mother, now that Vanessa is stable… In the meantime, I… I want you to… find out who did this, who – hurt – Vanessa.”

“I will,” Wesley promised. And that was all that needed to be said.

He went to work right away and, though it didn’t take long for him to put the pieces together, it was already too late. In all of his careful planning, he’d failed to see this coming.

By the time he’d figured out that Leland and Gao had orchestrated the matter, Fisk had killed Ben Urich. By the time he’d told Fisk about Leland’s theft, Vanessa had been released from the hospital. By the time Vanessa made it to the penthouse, he’d confirmed that Gao was out of the country. By the time Fisk caught up to Leland, Wesley had arrangements made to deal with Karen Page. By the time the closest team of cops made it to the abandoned building where Leland had been keeping Detective Hoffman, that damn fool in the mask had reached him and took him to one of the few cops that weren’t on their payroll.

Piece by piece, the empire Wesley and Fisk had spent so many years building started to crumble around them. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the next chapter. So even despite the desperate protests from both Wesley and Vanessa, Fisk had ordered his right-hand man to get her out of the country. By the time Wilson had been caught by the man in the mask – the _Daredevil,_ as they’d dubbed him, Wesley and Vanessa were safe thousands of meters in the air. By the time Wesley and Vanessa had made it to the safehouse he’d arranged, Fisk was locked up in maximum security prison.

Weeks passed. Every step toward freeing Fisk from jail was taken against a raging tide. Their assets, most of them, frozen. Their allies in the wind. Their empire but a fragment of what it once was. It would only take a matter of time before Wesley broke Wilson out of jail, but the damage had already been done. It would take years to rebuild what they’d had and years to build something different, if that was what Wilson wanted. But for now, to focus on the present.

Wesley stood on the terrace of his and Vanessa’s current shelter: a sizeable penthouse in Dijon, France. Vanessa was asleep and most of the men stood watch at her door. While Wesley had no such notions that they were safe, he’d ordered his men to stay inside as he stared down at the unfamiliar city below, finally alone with a moment to himself.

It wasn’t Hell’s Kitchen; it wasn’t filthy or overcrowded. It didn’t smell of rot and decay or leave a film of dirt and grime on his skin. It wasn’t nearly as loud. But it was the worst damn place he’d ever been to because he was here and Fisk was locked in a cage and denied his vision.

After his most recent negotiations turned a corner and hit a dead end, Wesley was… pissed. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth and for all he was worth he wished another portal would open up just so he could watch a horde of aliens burn this city to the ground. The screams would be music to his ears.

But no, this wasn’t the city that needed to be punished. This wasn’t the city that scorned Fisk’s ideals and tore apart the last decade of their lives. This wasn’t –

This wasn’t the time to lose control.

Wesley took a deep breath in, closed his eyes, and listened to the muted sounds below. Though his heart pounded he schooled his features and breathed slow, slow, slowly until his pulse calmed. And even as the ocean before him rose up into a tidal wave that threatened to consume him, he opened his eyes and he breathed. He could weather this storm. He had to.

“You really dug yourself a deep hole this time, didn’t you, James?”

Wesley froze. He knew that voice; sultry and powerful yet calming and reserved. His heart caught in his throat and just like that, the winds fell and the wave leveled. The storm wasn’t over, but he’d be damned if he didn’t grab hold of this lifeline and pull himself and Fisk out of the water inch by inch.

He slid his hands into his pockets and turned around with his carefully crafted smirk in place. Samantha Moore, if that was the name she still went by, sat on the roof above him with her legs dangled over the side. She wore her standard army green tank top, black cargo pants, and tactical boots. The only difference he could tell was that she’d lost the hair dye and her blond and brown hair was chopped short, reaching just below her chin.

“I was beginning to think I’d seen the last of you,” he said.

“I should be so lucky.”

Samantha dropped down to the terrace in front of him. The men standing guard inside jumped and reached for their weapons, but Wesley held up his hand and, though wary, they backed down.

“Jenn’s worried about you.” She walked past him and leaned on the railing. “And yet here you are, living like a king. Oh, sorry. A king’s pet.”

Wesley ignored the spark of irritation that flitted by; it was nothing he hadn’t heard before. He turned back toward the city.

“It’s not safe for me to contact her, given my current position.”

Sam huffed. “Not in the usual way, maybe. But this isn’t the first time I’ve had to rush to finish a job and cart myself halfway across the world just to make sure your arrogance hasn’t finally stuck a bullet in you.” She turned to face him, still leaning sideways on the rail. “Speaking of which, do you know what I had to go through to find you?”

Wesley looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. After a long moment she tsked and walked away. He wasn’t entirely sure she meant to hide the word she mumbled under her breath but he smirked anyway.

“I find it interesting,” he said into the night, “that you insist on showing up in person when my sister sends you. Why is that, I wonder?”

When he didn’t hear her lift herself back onto the roof, he knew she’d taken the bait. She glared at him with enough heat that he could almost feel it searing the back of his suit.

“Perhaps if you’d figure out a way to tell Jenn during a crisis that you’re not dead, then I wouldn’t have to bother myself at all.”

“But then I’d never get to see you,” Wesley shot a grin at her as he faced her and leaned back against the rail. The derisive stare she gave him was typical, but he didn’t let her respond. “As much as I’d love to continue our banter, I must admit I’ve some more serious matters to discuss.”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was about to say.”

“I don’t have to,” she crossed her arms over her chest and regarded him with indifference. “Whatever you’re about to ask, whatever business proposition you’ve got running around in that maze-like head of yours, the answer is no. You got yourself into this mess and you can get yourself out.”

Wesley took a moment to collect his thoughts. He knew Sam wouldn’t be receptive considering their history and current relationship (if that’s what it could be called). Their business ventures often overlapped in Hell’s Kitchen but she refrained from any deals involving Mr. Fisk or any of his contacts. He wasn’t actually sure how much influence she had in any given area, as she was too hard to track and kept her associates heavily compartmentalized, but he knew one thing.

“You haven’t made any moves to snatch authority in Hell’s Kitchen,” he said. “It’s been weeks and wars are breaking out all over the city.”

“Your point?”

“I know you have a vested interest in that part of the city and you’re going to go back there eventually. But you haven’t yet. There are probably a number of reasons – me being one of them, for which I do apologize,” Sam rolled her eyes, “but I’m willing to bet it’s because you haven’t found yourself a, uh – marionette, shall we say?”

“My operations are still running.”

“But surely the chaos is threatening them. You need stability.”

“Stop the acrobatics, Wesley, what is it you’re asking?”

He paused as he mulled over what to say. He could put forward another tactical remark – map out the next space for one of his pawns to move to. But somehow, he knew that wouldn’t satiate her concerns. So instead, he decided to appeal to her humanity. A funny thing, considering the business they were in.

“Please, Samantha,” he said. “I know you aren’t particularly fond of working with others, but I’m willing to let you name your price. You can wait until I’ve more to offer to collect on it if you want, I just – please.”

As expected, his plea startled her. She narrowed her eyes, not quite believing, but he meant it. Normally he wouldn’t show this type of weakness in front of anyone, least of ways someone who disliked him so much, but… Jenn trusted her. And he was out of options.

Slowly, Samantha closed the gap between them, all the while searching his eyes for any lie or hesitation, until she stood only a few inches from him. He’d seen her do this once before, years ago; he’d chalked it up to an intimidation tactic. On the receiving end of it, he couldn’t be sure what it was. Whatever she saw in that moment seemed to satisfy her, though. She took a step back.

“I never thought I’d see the day that James Wesley came to me begging for a favor, but fine. I’ll think about it. Whether I’ve taken you up on the offer or not, you’ll know if your master contacts you. And if I do agree, Wesley… this isn’t a cheap favor.”

“I know.”

“Good. Because you may well be in my debt for a number of years.”

“I’m well aware of the implications, Samantha.”

She scrutinized him, a flash of something unreadable beneath her gaze.

“You really would do anything for him.”

Wesley didn’t look away. “Wouldn’t you for Jenn?”

Samantha gave him a small smile. After a brief moment, a moment Wesley felt he could get lost in her caramel-colored eyes, she propelled herself back onto the roof and disappeared into the darkness.

He stood there for a long time and breathed in the cool air, for the first time in weeks, with a little bit of hope. There was no telling when or how she would get Wilson out of jail but he knew she would.

That was one thing she couldn’t hide from him.

* * *

Josie’s wasn’t a quiet place – it never was – but the cacophony of drunks and the reek of alcohol plagued Karen Page far more than usual that night.

They had defeated Fisk.

The man was rotting in jail and the city was free from his clutches and yet it wasn’t any more peaceful than it had been. Actually, it was worse. Like lawless country, the shadows could hide any sort of menace and even with the dirty cops filtered out of the system there still wasn’t much they could do. Especially with this new vigilante, this _Punisher_.

She wanted to believe there was some good in him; he targeted the mafia and other syndicate groups, after all, but his method felt wrong in so many ways. If anyone could go around guns blazing and kill people whom they thought deserved it then what kind of city would Hell’s Kitchen be?

A city that thrived on violence, bloodshed, and silent threats… the city that Fisk wanted. The city that the glasses-freak would stop at nothing to create, even if he hated it. His loyalty was fearsome.

Karen dug her nails into her fist as she took another sip of stale beer. His loyalty could still cost her the rest of her life. She couldn’t avoid this train of thought; she couldn’t use the Punisher as a distraction, not really. Even though Fisk was behind bars they hadn’t been able to catch his right-hand man. He was out there somewhere, and though the damage had already been done to Fisk’s empire, she doubted either of them were above revenge. She thought that putting Fisk behind bars would get rid of this fear always following her – this need to look over her shoulder every few moments even in broad daylight. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Hey, Karen.”

She gasped. “Shit.”

Matt held his hands up. “Woah, sorry. Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, no, it’s fine. You’re fine. I was just zoning out, I’m…” she ran a hand through her hair and then smiled. “I’m fine.”

“Right,” Matt nodded. “That sounded very convincing.”

She huffed and looked down at the beer, only a few sips from empty, and then drank the rest in one go. “Good because I don’t think I want to think about… anything.”

“Fair enough.”

Matt waved for another round and the night followed a similar pattern. Karen knew that Matt was fishing for answers in the roundabout way that he did, but she just didn’t know what to say.

_“Oh, well you see, I was kidnapped and held at gunpoint by that guy in the suit but then I tried to shoot him but it didn’t work so he threatened me or some shit and now I’m pretty sure that I’m on a hit list and because you know me, you and Foggy might also be on that list, too.”_

That wouldn’t cut it. Besides, Matt had far too much on his plate to be thinking about someone who was supposed to be defeated; she couldn’t put this on him. She needed to figure it out on her own.

Well, she would when she was sober.

They didn’t leave the bar until well after midnight, responsibilities be damned, and Matt stayed with her in the taxi until she reached home. She said something that hopefully sounded close enough to “thank you” that he understood, and then she stumbled into her apartment building, up the stairs, and into her room. Her shoes came off at the door, then her skirt, and perhaps a button or two on her blouse, but as soon as she reached the bed she gave up and collapsed into its warm embrace.

* * *

Hayes peered down his scope at the woman as she wrestled with her clothing, a trail of smoke drifting slowly upward from his cigarette. He huffed and lowered the rifle to take a long drag and blow it out in a series of rings fitted into one another.

“Drunk as a sailor,” he grumbled. “You could have at least given me a more difficult target, Wesley.”

He looked into the scope again and found her passed out on her bed. Part of him wanted to shoot her right then and be done with it; only his work ethic stopped him. Wesley paid him to scare the girl, after all. A head shot to her while she lay unconscious on her bed wasn’t nearly as fun as what he had in store. She’d wish for death in no time at all.

Hayes took another drag from his cigarette and grinned, his eyes glinting in the faint glow of the ember. All the plans he could come up with for her...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, wow, that's chapter two all good and finished. Go me. Anywho, I really hope y'all like Samantha because she is bae.
> 
> I don't have much else to say other than from here on out, everything is either going to be original or very AU. I like full authority when I torture my characters, thank you very much. So yeah, until next time, fellow nerds.


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